o 53f50dedf5bfd441

by Ria

  THE BROKEN LINK

  BY

  YVONNE WHITTAL

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE morning had begun in the usual way for Janey de Waal, except that it was the

  first week of the new term after the Christmas holidays, and there was always a cer-

  tain amount of tension involved in settling down to work with a new class. Other

  than that, she had gone through the usual ritual of washing and dressing her fifteen-

  month- old son, Andrew, before seeing to his breakfast and leaving him in her

  mother's capable hands while she went off to school.

  She could not be sure at what stage during the morning she had become aware of

  a certain uneasiness, but her imagination was running rampant when the children

  eventually marched out of the classroom for the last time. There could not possibly

  be anything wrong at home with her parents or with Andrew. Someone would have

  telephoned, she told herself as she packed her briefcase and went along to the staff-

  room to collect a class roster she had left there earlier.

  'Is there something the matter, Janey?' the Headmaster ' asked when he noticed

  the frown between her limpid grey eyes.

  She pulled herself together instantly. 'No, Mr Williams, there's nothing the matter.

  Nothing that I know of, that is.'

  'You know, of course, that you can depend on my help at any time should you

  need it?'

  She glanced up at him briefly. He was rather young for the post of Headmaster,

  but he had been exceptionally kind to her during the past year. There had been

  occasions when she had sensed that he was more than professionally interested in

  her, but she had successfully avoided a closer relationship between them without

  having to offend him. -

  'Thank you, Mr Williams. You're very, kind,' she said quickly before making her

  escape and taking her usual bus home.

  She had lived in constant fear and uneasiness during the past two years, but she had

  made her decision and had had to abide by it. It had been more than difficult to do

  this, but she had survived; they had all survived the shock and shame, and the

  frequent degradation of her character.

  Janey pushed open the gate of her parents' home in Bellville and walked through

  the small but-neat garden. Everything looked as calm and serene as when she had left

  that morning, she thought as she climbed the polished steps to the front door. The

  grey paint was chipping slightly, she noticed as she turned the handle, smiling as she

  recalled her father grumbling that he spent a fortune on repairing and painting the old

  house yearly.

  As always, Andrew was the first to greet her as she entered the house. He came

  toddling from the direction of the lounge, an excited bounce in his step as he

  shrieked with delight. Janey dropped her briefcase and caught him in her arms,

  lifting him high before she hugged him against her. Her happiest moments were

  those spent with her child, when she could shed the impersonal mask she had had to

  assume, and just be herself.

  'Did you miss me, darling?' she asked, and chubby little arms wound themselves

  about her neck and became entangled in the richness of her shoulder-length auburn

  hair, while he gurgled happily in her ear. Oh, how she loved this child with his short

  coppery curls and grey-green eyes«; she loved him with an ache that threatened to

  choke her at times.

  'Janey?'

  'Coming, Mommy,' she replied instantly, coming out of her reverie to walk

  unsuspectingly into the small, cosy lounge with Andrew in her arms.

  Her mother was not alone. Her father was there, which in itself was strange, for he

  seldom took an afternoon off from work. He was seated in his usual chair with his

  favourite pipe clenched between his teeth, and—standing with his back to the

  window—a tall man with hair the colour of burnished copper and unforgettable

  grey-green eyes.

  The colour drained from her face, and Andrew, sensing the change in his mother,

  stilled in her arms. The past had caught up with her in a way she had not suspected,

  and with it came painful memories she had hoped were buried for ever. Memories

  that came thrusting back to the present with a ruthlessness that ripped at wounds

  supposedly healed, exposing them to further punishment and pain.

  It was, to Janey, as if it had happened yesterday; graduating from college with her

  friend Alison Peters and flying from Cape Town on an all-expenses-paid holiday for

  two weeks to the Natal south coast with Alison and her parents.

  The hotel was practically on the edge of the sundrenched beach, and they had spent

  their first afternoon swimming and lazing on the sand.

  1 can't believe that the three years of hard work are behind us,' Alison sighed,

  rolling over on to her stomach and flicking her long fair hair over one tanned

  shoulder.

  'In a little over two weeks the real hard work begins,' Janey remonstrated, admiring

  her friend's long-limbed figure.

  Of the two of them Alison was always the one to draw the admiring glances of the

  opposite sex, while Janey— plain Jane as she called herself—remained in the

  shadows and preferred it there. With a slender, supple figure and lustrous auburn hair

  that curled softly into her neck,

  Janey was not unattractive, yet rather more studious and less frivolous than her

  friend.

  'Janey, the way you said that makes teaching sound like a death sentence,' Alison

  protested laughingly. 'You take life much too seriously.'

  'You would feel the same if your parents had had to go without many things to

  provide you with an education.'

  Alison nodded thoughtfully. 'I suppose you're right. Money is something I've

  always had plenty of. There never was any need to panic and wonder where the

  money would come from to see me through college. It was just there—something I

  took for granted.' She wrinkled her nose. 'Disgusting, isn't it?'

  'No,' Janey shook her head reflectively. 'It gave you a peace of mind I often envied.

  I owed my parents so much that I couldn't afford not to pass my exams. That's why I

  so often sat with my books instead of joining in the fun on campus.'

  Alison nodded understandingly, and with undisguised admiration in her eyes.

  Nothing had ever come to Janey the easy way. Every achievement had been a sL

  jggle which had made the eventual victory so much sweeter.

  After dinner that evening Alison's parents preferred the peace and quiet of the

  secluded lounge to the exertion of joining in with the dancing in the entertainment

  hall.

  'But don't let us prevent the two of you from enjoying yourselves,' Mr Peters

  insisted, giving Alison and Janey an encouraging push in that direction.

  'Don't stay up too late,' Mrs Peters warned with concern. 'We've had a tiring

  journey and you girls need all the rest you can get.'

  'Stop fussing, Mother,' they heard Mr Peters intervene good-naturedly while they

  made their way across the carpeted entrance hall and down the short passage in the


  direction of the dance music.

  Janey was never quite certain at what stage during the evening she had become

  aware of the man at the other end of the room. He stood leaning against the bar

  counter, the drink in his hand apparently forgotten. His hair was the colour of

  burnished copper and, even at a distance, his eyes glittered strangely. He seemed

  amused and curiously bored as he stood watching the dancing couples swaying to the

  music provided by the resident band.

  Alison had been quick to find a partner, while Janey preferred to remain half

  hidden behind a rubber tree plant. For some time she had sat there, unperturbed and

  relaxed, until a force stronger than herself had made her turn her head. Her glance

  had locked instantly with that of the man at the counter, and it had felt like a current

  of electricity flowing through her. She was breathless, her pulse fluttering wildly

  when she finally managed to wrench her eyes from his. But, despite this, she seemed

  to be aware of nothing else but the frightening magnetic quality of those eyes that did

  not waver from her for one instant.

  Her glance was captured repeatedly by his, sparking off an awareness, a

  recognition of something she was too wary to put a name to, although her heart leapt

  oddly, reaching out across the room in response to a silent command.

  'I've had it, this heat is killing me!' Alison exclaimed, flinging herself into the chair

  beside Janey.

  'Don't look now,' Janey said softly, welcoming the diversion. 'That man at the bar

  counter with the coppery hair. Who is he?'

  ‘I don't need to look,' Alison replied, lowering her voice. 'His name is Rudolph

  Brink. He's come to this same hotel for the past three years just as we have, and

  always for two weeks or so after New Year. Every unmarried woman, and every

  young girl who is old enough to have her senses stirred, has tried to catch his eye, but

  he's always managed to remain aloof. I tried my luck with him once, and he was very

  polite, but I got the message loud and clear.'

  Janey met his disturbing glance once more and then looked away swiftly, colouring

  profusely at his heightened amusement. There's something about him; something

  indefinable.'

  'Yes, I know,' Alison grinned at her, slipping off her shoes and wriggling her toes. 'I

  think it's his aloofness that intrigues everyone. Perhaps women might not find him so

  interesting if he mixed more.'

  The throbbing music increased its tempo, and the dancing became more lively,

  while the heat grew unbearable in the crowded room. Janey found it suffocatingly hot

  as she leaned forward in her chair and pushed her fingers along the nape of her neck

  where her hair hung in damp tendrils. She had to get away while she still had the

  strength to walk from the weird magnetic pull of the man Alison had called Rudolph

  Brink.

  'Alison, if you don't mind, I'm going up to bed.'

  'But it's only ten-thirty!'

  'I know, but I'm rather tired.' She rose with a clumsiness caused by embarrassment,

  knowing that she was being observed intently from across the room.

  'I think it's time I went to bed as well,' Alison announced surprisingly, following

  Janey as she walked jerkily from the room.

  Janey had felt those eyes boring into her back, making her spine crawl until they

  were out of sight. It was the strangest experience she had ever had, she reflected as

  they took the lift up to the fourth floor. No one had ever stared at her that boldly

  before, or caused such peculiar sensations to ripple through her. It was unearthly.

  'Janey, don't lose your heart to Rudolph Brink,' Alison warned unexpectedly once

  they were alone in their room. 'As I've told you before, there isn't a woman in this

  hotel who hasn't fallen for him at some time or another and felt the sting of his

  rejection.'

  Janey frowned deeply as she sat down on her bed and faced Alison. 'He's very

  good-looking, and I couldn't help staring—but he stared at me too, rather boldly, I

  thought. It was almost as if he were willing me to get up off my chair and cross the

  room to his side.' She shook her head and passed a tired hand across her eyes. 'It's

  uncanny, I can't explain it, but if that's the effect he has on every woman, then I can

  understand why they fall for him.'

  'I can't say that he ever stared at me in the way you describe, but...' Alison fell

  unceremoniously on to her bed and placed her hands behind her head, '... he's the

  dreamiest man I've ever met.'

  There was a faraway look in her eyes when Janey left her and went through to the

  bathroom. Tiredness could play weird tricks on the imagination, and that was all it

  had been, she decided, laughing at herself as she stripped and stepped under the

  shower, allowing the water to cool her heated body.

  After breakfast the next morning they changed into their swimming costumes and,

  armed with towels and plenty of suntan lotion, they went down to the beach. Even at

  that early hour the sun had a sting to it, and the golden sand was hot beneath their

  feet as they dropped their towels, and slipped out of their beach robes before running

  into the waves until they finally lost their balance and plunged into the cool water.

  'This is marvellous,' Janey gasped as she emerged beneath a breaker. 'The water at

  the Cape is always so cold, but then we don't normally have the fear of sharks along

  the west coast.'

  'There are shark nets along here,' Alison pacified her,

  splashing about in the water like a child instead of the woman she was. 'The only

  sharks you may find here are the two-legged ones!'

  'I think I can handle them’ Janey laughed, splashing Alison playfully before

  another wave completely submerged them.

  They surfaced, gasping and laughing, their hair wet and stringy about their faces.

  .

  'Do you think you'll be able to handle Rudolph Brink?'

  The laughter died on Janey's lips. 'That depends on whether he's a shark or not.'

  'I don't think that the aloof Mr Brink could be called a shark/ Alison expanded,

  floating on her back, 'but then he could be one in disguise, and that kind are

  infinitely worse than the obvious ones.'

  It was a disturbing thought, and one which Janey preferred not to linger on. Her

  experience of men in general was rather limited. There had never been time for

  anything more than casual acquaintances, whereas Alison had fallen in and out of

  love a dozen times or more during their three years at college. She would know

  what to do when a crisis arose, but would Janey?

  They were sunbathing on the beach when Mr Peters came walking towards them

  across the sand, and Alison sighed as she rose and went to find out what it was that

  he was gesturing about. Janey rolled over on to her back and closed her eyes against

  the sun. It was wonderful just to lie there and do nothing, she thought lazily, and it

  was very kind of the Peters family to have invited her to join them on this holiday.

  It was like living in the lap of luxury after studying so hard at college as well as

  working at various jobs during the holidays for extra money.

  Her eyes flew open as a shadow fell across her, and her startled glance clashed

  with a pair of grey-green e
yes that were faintly amused. The coppery hair was even

  more brilliant in the sunlight, and strong white teeth flashed against the tanned

  ochre of his skin as he smiled.

  'Hello,' he said, breaking the tense little silence in a voice that had the quality of

  timbre; deep, well-modulated, and almost caressing.

  'H-hello.'

  She sat up then, aware that she was breathless with an inner emotion she could not

  explain as she brought her eyes on a level with his. The magnetism was the same as

  it had been the night before, but more intensified with his nearness. Nothing else

  existed beyond those penetrating grey- green eyes, and she was drowning in a pool

  of sensations that was alien to her.

  'You ran away last night,' he accused.

  'I... wasn't aware that I was ... running away from anything?' she managed, her

  breath coming unevenly over parted lips as she fought vainly for composure.

  'You looked scared.'

  'Scared?'

  'Yes.' He lowered his fiery glance. 'You're scared now. I can tell by the way your

  heart is beating against your throat.'

  Her hand-went instantly to that vulnerable spot, hiding the tell-tale pulse. 'This is

  ridiculous!'

  'I agree.' The tanned, muscular shoulders moved slightly. 'You have nothing to fear

  from me.'

  His glance swept over her and she had the most devastating feeling that he was

  touching her. Her skin tingled, grew hot, while tender nerves were vibrantly alert to

  the lure of this man.

  'Janey!' Alison called to her, breaking the uncomfortable spell this stranger had cast

  over her. 'Bring my towel, will you? Daddy has hired a car and we're going for a

  drive along the coast.'

  'Excuse me,' Janey said swiftly, almost faint with relief as she gathered up the

  towels. Rudolph Brink rose as well, tall and alarmingly attractive in his bathing

  trunks.

  'You won't always be running from me, Janey,' he warned with a touch of mockery,

  making use of her name as if he had a right to do so. But Janey did not waste time

  with a reply, and sped across the sand to where Mr Peters and Alison were waiting

  for her without risking a backward glance. Alison's eyes were questioning, and it was

  obvious that she was bursting with curiosity to know what Rudolph Brink should

  have wanted with her, but Janey shook her head and remained silent.